


The Navigator

by shadowhostage (thenakednymph), thenakednymph



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur and his merry band of space knights, M/M, Space AU, fight back the evils of the land based druids, gods this thing is such a mess, inspired by an art piece on DA, let's try again, now that I have my head on straight, weeeee!!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-06 23:03:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenakednymph/pseuds/shadowhostage, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenakednymph/pseuds/thenakednymph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin is a Navigator aboard the Camelot, keeping an eye on his team of seven Knights as they fight off the rebels on the planet, but when the Camelot is boarded and Merlin separated from his team he must do everything in his power to protect them. When Arthur gets captured he is used as leverage against Merlin to break the blood code Uther kept hidden or Arthur's life is forfeit.<br/>*Under construction</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a Merthur piece I found on DA, all credits for the world and the initial inspiration go to the artist.
> 
> Edit: Okay, right now this is under heavy construction. I posted it forever ago and only just finished it but it's undergoing some heave rewrites so please be patient as I try to get all my ducks in a row. I have no idea at this point as to what's been previously edited and what hasn't so I'm going to need to reread the entire thing and likely repost chapter by chapter. I will NOT be deleting anything, just updating everything. It will likely be a slow process but I hope to finally have everything ironed out as soon as possible. I've had several key issues pointed out to me and altered some plot points that need to be addressed in earlier chapters and haven't been so please be patient.
> 
> EDIT: I lied, I'm deleting everything except the first chapter and starting over.
> 
> OKAY. Now that the slate's been wiped clean, let's try again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really thought I had linked the art piece when I first posted this fic, but apparently not. So here it is: http://shadow-hostage.deviantart.com/art/Merthur-As-Always-358772602

 The flashing light over the door and the blaring of the warning bell signaled their departure and the seven-man squad rose to their feet. They went about adjusting gloves, giving equipment one last brief look-over before filing from the room chatting idly, leaving their Navigator lounging across the couch, throwing a cyber-ball at the ceiling.

Arthur hangs back with a glare. “Don’t you have a job to do?” he scolds. “Like make sure we don’t all die maybe?”

Merlin cranes his head back and smiles, twirling the ball on the palm of his hand, his eyes dancing behind his visor. “What for? You don’t leave for three minutes and that gives me three more minutes to myself before you bunch of idiots hit planet-side. I plan to enjoy them.” Merlin shifts about, making himself comfortable again and resumes tossing the ball.

Shifting his weight, Arthur puts his hands on his hips, not at all amused. “Now Merlin.”

Merlin rolls off the couch with a sigh, the ball disappearing between his fingers with a flick of his wrist.

“Fine, fine, Captain Clotpole,” he mutters, falling into step beside Arthur as they make their way to the departure pods, their boot strikes echoing off the metal paneling of the floor.

“Seriously,” he murmurs, voice surprisingly sober. “Watch our asses Emrys; I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” Arthur stops outside his pod, the other Knights already in place, and fiddles with his gloves, running a quick comm. check before meeting Merlin’s eyes. Merlin winks and walks backwards to the central station, cyber-screens blinking to life all around him.

“Another one of your funny feelings?” he asks, trying to draw a smile from Arthur without success. “Don’t worry so much,” he teases when Arthur doesn't respond. “Watching your ass is my favorite past time.”

Arthur steps inside his pod as a final siren blares, flipping Merlin off as the cover begins to come down. “In your dreams Emrys,” he calls.

“Every damn night.” Merlin’s mouth twists in a smile as he raises his voice to be heard through the whirling mechanisms as the pod door hisses into place. He blows Arthur a kiss, making him roll his eyes. Merlin laughs as he turns to his screens, keeping time with the countdown, activating the communication relay in his headset, officially tying him in with the other Knights.

“Projected flight plan stable, all pods are green,” he says, fingers flying over the keys.

 _3…2…1…mark_ , the computer calls.

“And away we go.” Merlin taps a few keys, swiping his hand wide across a panel and all seven pods are jettisoned with a hollow pop, Merlin spinning all the way around on his heel and snapping his fingers, a wide smile on his face.

Merlin can hear Gwaine’s whoop of excitement through their linked comm. system and shakes his head, biting back a laugh. The other man’s excitement has a way of getting under Merlin’s skin, leaving him jittery on adrenaline and he bounces on the balls of his feet, pulling up the screens that monitor the health of the Knights, shifting it to his left with a flick of the wrist.

 _“Easy there boys, just standard war games,”_ Arthur interrupts. _“I don’t want any exchange of fire unless they start it; then you’re more than welcome to finish it. You know how much I like a good smash and grab, but if we can slip in and out unseen-”_ Arthur’s voice fizzles over the comm. and Merlin frowns, the Knights bantering skimming past his attention as he focuses on the white noise.

 _“Can you do something about this static?”_ Arthur asks a second later.

“Yeah, I’m working on it,” he mutters, a furrow between his eyebrows as he works. He boosted the signal and fiddles with the ship’s dampeners, trying to counter whatever interference is causing the white noise. “Better?”

_“Much. Any idea what it was?”_

Merlin shakes his head even though Arthur can't see. “I don't know, probably something from the other team trying to cut us off from each other. I wouldn't put it past Freya to try.”

 _“Hey Merlin,”_ Lance cuts in, _“when are you going to come down here with us where all the real action is? You can actually hold a gun instead of just fingering one,”_ he teases.

Merlin rolls his eyes, his gaze slipping to the panel that allows him access to the ships firing system. Lance was always trying to get Merlin to come down off the _Camelot_ , but Merlin's never much cared for surface life and keeps putting it off.

“And deprive all these lovely people of my winning personality?” he asks. “Never.” He runs his fingers over the keys with practiced familiarity, drawing up a three dimensional map of the planet behind him, the white-blue light of the orb filling the darkened room. “Besides, you lot are shite without me.” The computer zooms in, cutting a small square free of the planet and laying it flat until there's a 3D map of the terrain spread out before him.

He spins to face another schematic, pulling up the targeted landing zone on the miniaturized planet, seven red dots zooming towards it. The other team is likely already on the surface and waiting for the all clear.

Tapping a section of the map Merlin pulls up the secondary landing zone, watching the seven green dots representing their enemy, watching them mill about.

 _“Shit.”_  
Merlin's eyes flickered to Elyan's vitals, absorbing the collective information of his stress levels and the pod's integrity all in a matter of moments.

“Talk to me Elyan, what's going on?”

Elyan curses again, the vibrations inside his pod feeding back through their relay.

 _“Damn integrity buffers-”_ His words cut in and out over the radio. _“Thought they fixed these,”_ he grouses.

“Something must have come loose. I'll make a note to have it checked when this is over.”

Merlin can hear Elyan rattling around inside his pod and immediately connects to it, trying to diagnose the problem in the hopes it isn't too big of an issue. It wouldn't be the first time a pod has rattled itself apart in descent.

None of them say it but they're all thinking it. All of their heart rates are slightly elevated but Merlin pretends to ignore it.

“Buffer's probably rattled loose again. I'm sure you'll be fine,” Merlin says before any of the others can interrupt. “It's probably going to get a little rough though. Let me see what I can do from here.

“I thought we fixed this,” Arthur cuts in.

_“Tell that to your dad.”_

Merlin's glad Gwaine's the one to say it, but he has to admit he was thinking it.

“Gwen can work some magic on it for us,” Merlin says before there's a fight, trying to soothe things over. “How's that Elyan? Any better?” he asks.

_“Much, thanks Merlin.”_

“Piece of cake,” Merlin grins into the intercom, watching as the pods land a moment later. He listens to the hissing and popping of the doors as they open, following the process on his screens, the computer letting him know the doors are no longer sealed. The Knights slip out to secure the perimeter Merlin already knowing the area is clear of troopers.

 _“What have we got Emry’s?”_ Arthur calls as the Knights fan out. Merlin listens to the shifting of clothing and boots on dirt as the Knights spread out, his eyes running tirelessly over the screens as the alerts pop up.

“We are clear to engage. Green Team is stationed thirteen clicks to the west.” Merlin opens the file Command had sent to him laying out the battlefield. “Simulated trip mines one hundred meters to the north, and a swamp between you and Green Team. I'm sending out interference so they can't get a good lock on you but knowing Freya it won't take her long to crack. I'll try to keep it cycling, make it harder for her. The targets shouldn’t be more than a few meters to the south. Not much for cover along the way, but all seems clear.”

_“Swamps, rocks, desert, could they have picked an area more geologically diverse? What's next? Snow?”_

“I'll see what I can do for you next time Lance, but only because you're my favorite,” Merlin says.

 _“Liar,”_ Percy whispers and Merlin ignores him.

“I’ve dropped you behind a line of trees and in a valley out of view so hopefully no one saw you coming in. If they did it’s your problem now. Sorry about the climb back out, but I figured a little exercise would do you boys good. You’re getting a little soft around the middle if you know what I mean.”

 _“Speak for yourself,”_ Gwaine mutters. _“Going soft my ass.”_

Merlin can practically hear Gwaine flexing and a small spattering of laughter confirms his suspicion.

 _“When we get back to the Camelot I’m sure Merlin would be more than willing to test that theory,”_ Arthur jabs.

“Only if you’re a package deal Pendragon,” Merlin snipes back. “You know I only have eyes for you.”

Merlin can hear the other Knights snickering and would bet money even Arthur is smiling, but laughter soon fades away to the heavy breathing of men climbing their way up the angled cliffs of the valley and Merlin leans against the circular rail enclosing his station with a frown, watching their progress in silence, his brain working on the static they’d encountered, unable to let it go.

Merlin led them through the terrain via his three dimensional map, until they come to the mine field. He can hear Arthur huff and imagines him staring off over the ground with that same look of disapproval he shoots at anything that doesn't please him.

_“Can you find us a way around Merlin?”_

Merlin shakes his head. “Trust me, there isn't one, I already looked, but I can lead you through. I'm updating all of your navs with proximity alerts. If you come too close to one you'll know.”

_“Yeah, after it takes off one of our legs.”_

“Then I guess you're lucky this is just a sim and not the real thing Gwaine,” Merlin shoots back.

 _“I hate flying blind,”_ he grouses.

 _“Good, because you're walking,”_ Arthur cuts in. _“Let's go. Merlin, take it slow.”_

“Don't worry, I'll be gentle.” Several of the Knights snicker. “All right, single file ladies and gentleman, one at a time, no pushing or shoving.”

The minutes creep by until Merlin has them almost half way through the field and they're beginning to relax. But they're still too far out in the open for Arthur and he can't shake the feeling they're being watched.

 _“I don’t like this,”_ Arthur mutters, staring down at his portable nav, checking for the Green Team but there's still no one in sight. _“It’s too damn quiet.”_ The hair on the back of his neck stands on end and Arthur’s gut says it's a trap, even if there is no one insight for miles.

_“Merlin, where are the others?”_

“What's the matter, can't see them on your own screen?”

 _“You know he doesn't trust the things Emrys, especially not when he can rely on the eye in the sky,”_ Gwaine drawls.

“That being me I take it?” Merlin asks.

_“You got it.”_

Merlin can hear the distinct sound of Gwaine begin beaten about the head and shoulders and smiles, bringing up the screen of the other team and frowns.

“Well that can't be right,” he mutters.

 _“What?”_ Arthur's voice has a thin note of warning and Merlin doesn't want him to panic.

“According to this they're still-” He devolves into cursing, his hands flying over the controls as the little green dots flicker out and back in.

“They're-”

Gun fire opens over the radio and Merlin winces at the same time as Arthur shouts _“-right on top of us!”_

“Arthur!” Merlin shouts through the comm. as Arthur’s voice cuts out with a resounding blast that makes his head throb, filling the comm. system with white noise and leaving his ears ringing.

Shaking off the sound Merlin taps at the comm. against his ear in a vain attempt to clear it of static.

“Damn it Freya,” he swears, cursing the Navigator of the Green Team. “She blinded their signal. I should have seen that coming,” he says, the reprimand more for himself than the others who can't hear him anyway.

Merlin is frantic, checking and rechecking his systems; his scans say they're in the clear, but the gun blasts and the screams of simulated dying men feeding through the comm. into his ears, belie his readings.

“ _-all over us,”_ Arthur shouts, the audio finally snapping back into focus and Merlin winces.

Merlin flails for his screens, trying to see what's going on. “Activate your first person camera; I can’t see a damn thing up here.” There's a flicker of static over one screen and then an image of the surface lights up, shaking from the recoil of Arthur’s weapon as he fires, dust filling the air.

 _“We're sitting ducks out here Merlin,”_ Lance shouts over the gunfire, landmines exploding on Merlin's display, throwing shrapnel and Lance's leg flashes red, his second skin registering the hit and sending a shock of pain through his body, rendering the leg useless even though there's no such explosion outside of the digital.

“I'm sending out an em pulse, maybe it'll deactivate the mines, or at the very least hide you from their radar and you can get out alive.”

 _“That'll leave you just as blind as us,”_ Arthur warns.

“You got a better idea, spit it out, otherwise take off your nav and get ready to throw it.”

_“Why?”_

“Just do it!” Merlin wires a feed-back loop through the machine, building up the power until he can hear it beginning to short out the radio and knows it's almost ready. “Now!”

Arthur hurls the machine up on the ridge and an electronic scream shoots through all their radios, shorting them out and Merlin's screens go black.

He's blind.

~

Merlin is able to bypass the _Camelot's_ security and use their surveillance bouey in the atmosphere to bring up video feed of the battle, but the radios take a little bit longer.

An alarm beeps behind Merlin, highlighting Gwaine’s shoulder in red and Merlin blows it up to size, scanning the damage as the radios flicker back to life.

“Gwaine’s hit, but it’s just a flesh wound,” Merlin informs them. “I’m flooding his system with antibiotics and painkillers, same as Lance. Somebody cover him until he stabilizes,” he demands, his fingers flying. “If you can make a run for it I suggest you go now, that pulse isn't going to last forever,” he rattles as a siren blares through the station, the lights blacking to emergency.

 _“Already ahead of you Merlin,”_ one of the Knights calls, but Merlin can barely hear him with the sirens blaring in his ears.

“Now what?” he demands, spinning around to draw up another screen, this one of the ship’s security system, sweat dappling his forehead. There are multiple breeches all over the ship, from breaks in security to full scale atmospheric breaches and Merlin swears. He hadn’t felt a thing and yet the entire hull is riddled with holes like it's been hit with a machine gun.

 _“What is it?”_ Arthur call as Merlin tries to contact security. _“Damn it Merlin, answer me.”_

“Shut up,” he snaps into the comm., turning to the ships communication system. “Serpent Teams, come in. We have ship wide breaches. We need security and repair units dispatched to all levels, do you read me?” There was nothing but silence over the radio. “Is anyone there?” he calls. “Someone answer me. What’s happening?” There's only white noise and Merlin punches one of the screens in frustration, wondering if his signal is even leaving the room.

“Shit’s going sideways up here Arthur. I don’t know what’s going on, but no one’s answering me. If you can get out of there, do it now, but don’t come back to the _Camelot_. I’m changing security codes as fast as I can, but it won’t slow them down for long.”

 _“They’ve got stealth tech,”_ Arthur calls, his voice popping through the growing interference. _“Are they even supposed to have that?”_ Merlin isn't sure if Arthur's talking to him or one of the other Knights but he doesn't care. _“We’re sitting ducks down here Emry’s get us out!”_

“I’m trying,” he yells back, trying to do a hundred things at once, the idea of listening to his friends die, even in a simulation, leaving his stomach rolling. “But I’m running blind. I’ve got ‘em up on your video, but my screens are clear,” he insists fiercely, trying to get that concept across to Arthur. “I’m not going to do you any good.” Merlin’s screens flicker and another alarm goes off, warning signs flashing everywhere as someone tries to deny him access to the ship's security. But he knows the system better and is able to keep one step ahead of them until the screens flickered again, this time blacking out for a longer period than before.

“I can't keep you alive and someone from hacking the _Camelot_ at the same time. And no, this isn't a simulation, someone's really-”

 _“Take care of the ship,”_ Arthur cuts in, “It's just a war game Merlin.”

“Someone’s trying to cut power to my station-” Merlin interrupts, their voices overlapping.

 _“Oh gods,”_ Arthur breathes and Merlin stops short, his ears straining in a brief lull before the sounds of battle once again swarm in and leave him reeling.

 _“Dragons!”_ one of the Knights screams and Merlin’s heart stops.

“No, that’s- that’s not possible,” Merlin whispers, but Arthur’s first person footage says otherwise. “That's not in my manifest,” he breathes. “Oh gods what's happening.” The camera spins around as Arthur runs, Elyan at his side and Merlin’s stomach drops, leaving him nauseated and weak in the knees. The dragons are stealth tech, capable of bending light around them, making them near invisible and next to impossible to track. Their weapons are heat seeking, chasing after anything with an elevated body temperature and a heartbeat and just for kicks someone in design had decided to throw on a device that spat Greek fire. Merlin hadn’t believed it until he’d seen it for his own eyes and the effect had been devastating. Sometimes he can still smell the burning corpses in his dreams. They couldn’t have dragons, only the _Camelot_ had them anymore.

“What is going on,” he whispers.

 _“Well we’ve got three of them riding right up our asses,”_ Arthur snap, not hearing him. _“Back to the LZ,”_ he orders, turning his attention back to the Knights. _“Let’s move. Sod the sim!”_

“Weren’t you listening to me? We’re being boarded.” Merlin has to shout through the comm. to be heard as he begins losing their signal. “You’re screwed if you try to come back here.” There's no response, just rapid gunfire and the scream of the dragons as they split flame into the air. “Get the hell out of there,” he cries, his hands gripping the rail tight as he stares helplessly at the first person footage.

Merlin’s screens flicker again, the comm. going in and out, on its last breath. “Arthur?” he tries. “Arthur, do you copy?” but there's no response. “Knight 1, do you copy? Get your men out of there.”

Finally the screens blacken over completely and silence fills Merlin’s ears, more horrifying than the sounds of battle just seconds before. He swears and tears his visor free, throwing it across the room and running a gloved hand over his face, the spinning lights around the room bathing everything intermittently in red and darkness. His security screens are still lit up, throwing off eerie light and he sees troopers marching through the halls of the _Camelot_ , shooting anyone they came across. If someone was trying to cut his power it means they know he's there and it's obvious they're coming for him, but who are they?

Racing across the room Merlin jams the doors, severing the hydraulic system, his heart racing as a familiar figure steps into the view screen. Merlin’s eyes grow wide as the figure stares up into the camera with a leer before leveling a gun at it, static filling the display.

“No, no, no,” Merlin hisses, scooping up his damaged headset and turning it around, activating the personal camera. “Knight 1, this is Navigator Emrys. The _Camelot_ has been breached, I repeat, the _Camelot_ has been breached. The ship is being overrun by troopers.

“There’s not much time.” As if to illustrate his point someone begins banging on the outside of the door and Merlin swallows hard, his heart racing as he turns to look back into the camera.

“If you get this, stay as far away from the ship as you can.” He chews his lip, glancing back over his shoulder. “It’s Mordred. And before you ask, yes I’m sure you prat. I’ve stared at that file for years. I’d recognize him anywhere.” He stares into the camera feeling awkward, but needing to say something more. The words lodge in his throat and he can't get them out.

“Just- be careful. End message.” Dropping the visor inside a supply crate Merlin jettisons it towards the planet through one of the cargo drops. He considered stuffing himself inside just briefly, but there's was no atmosphere inside the crates and he’d never survive the descent. He only hopes the previous coordinates are still locked into the on board computer and that Arthur would get the message. Even if they aren't and he doesn't, it's worth a shot. Arthur needs some kind of warning.

Merlin may not know the specifics of Mordred’s hatred for both Arthur and his father, but he knows if Mordred finds Arthur it won't end well and he can’t let that happen. Merlin is sworn to protect his Knights, all seven of them, no matter the cost and he's going to do just that.

Backing into a corner Merlin scrambles for something to use as a weapon as the sound of tearing metal fills the room. The doors bow inward before erupting in a shower of sparks and dark smoke, shrapnel glancing off the floor and leaving deep gouges in the wall, the concussion knocking Merlin off his feet. Bits of metal fly past his head so close he can hear them whistle.

He buries his face in the crook of his elbow, gagging on the acrid smoke, leaving him blind and momentarily stunned as he scrambles away, blindly fighting off the hands making a grab for him. Someone finally catches his arm and drags him from the room, throwing him out into the hall, his eyes streaming.

He coughs and gags, his throat raw and burning as someone kneels in front of him. Finally managing to catch a decent breath Merlin looks up and Mordred smiles, his head tilting to the side in a way that would have been adorable on anyone else, a gun held loosely in his hand.

“Hello Emrys. Have you seen my brother?”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter is so short but it just seemed the only logical place to break it up.

“Whatever you’re here for, I am not helping you,” Merlin bites out, glaring up at Mordred from where he's kneeling on the floor.

Mordred tuts in disapproval, his lips pouting. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

Merlin lunges for him but one of the troopers clips him across the back of the head before he can even fully rise and he goes down with a wince.

“Careful with this one,” a silken voice calls through the ringing in Merlin's ears.

He blinks dumbly, one hand cupped to the back of his skull. “Morgana?”

“He’s sneaky.” Morgana steps up behind Mordred, looking down at Merlin from over his shoulder looking for all the world like she belongs there. “Give him a circuit board, a piece of tin, and a rubber band and he’ll have your mainframe hacked within a day,” she warns, a coy smile in the corner of her mouth.

“Sooner if you give me a piece of bubblegum,” Merlin mutters, betrayal and rage burning through the throbbing pain in his head helping him to think clearly.

Morgana smiles as if he’s just made her point. “Best keep him locked in isolation,” she suggests.

Merlin struggles to understand what he's seeing and hearing. And not just because his ears are still ringing. The pieces are starting to click together whether he wants them to or not and they paint a horrifying picture.

“What are you doing?” Merlin asks, his heart racing.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” she asks coyly, examining her nails.

“It looks like you’re helping the enemy,” Merlin grinds out with a glare at Mordred. Morgana smiles wide at him and Merlin’s heart sinks into his knees. “You are,” he breathes glancing back and forth between them hoping this is nothing but a bad dream. “You really are.”

He swallows thickly. “Why? Is that where they got the Dragons? Did you give them the tech?” he asks, already knowing the answer, his anger growing. “They nearly killed my Knights!”

Morgana gives an easy shrug, apparently unperturbed at the news her half brother could be dead.

“How can you be so callous?”

Morgana waves him off. “What makes you think I ever cared in the first place.” She leans forward. “You always did say I was a hell of an actor Merlin.” There's venom in her smile as she leans back.

“And of course I did. They promised to let me fly. You know as well as everyone else that Uther grounded me and there’s too much red tape around here anyway.” She twists her face in disgust. “Don’t do this, don’t do that, don’t bomb that high security network we’ve been trying to hack for months with liquid fire without permission,” she rails, her voice an octave lower to mimic Uther. “You know,” she waves her hand dismissively, “all the fun stuff.” She drapes her arm over Mordred's shoulder. “I give them the Dragons, they promise to let me fly. Easy as that.”

Morgana could have been a Navigator like Merlin. She's smart and able, capable of thinking on her feet and a wizard with computers. She had the highest marks in the class before she’d dropped out to become a fighter pilot, Dragonclass, and she was the best damn pilot the instructors had ever seen. She was stubborn to a fault and willing to fight for what she believed in, the consequences be damned. To Merlin she's one of the good guys; how can she do this to them?

“You fucking traitor.” He spits at her feet and Mordred wrinkles his nose, taking half a step back in disgust.

“So uncivilized,” he mutters. “Take him to the holding cells and put him in iso. Maybe some time in the dark will improve his manners.”

“Don't count on it,” Merlin snaps, struggling against the troopers as they haul him to his feet, twisting his arm around so hard he looses all feeling in it as they try to subdue him. He settles for quiet indignation before they can dislocate his shoulder and lets them march him down the corridor. They throw him into the holding cell and Merlin remembers to hit the floor just before they switch the gravity and he goes skidding thirty feet to the bottom, the impact leaving his joints aching.

The sensory dampeners make his skin itch and his ears buzz, leaving him in total darkness. He’s only been in iso once before when he’d decked Arthur after their first assignment and once had been more than enough. He'd been born planetside and is used to relying on his senses and to have them so dulled borders on torture.

It's only a matter of minutes before he's scratching, trying to get rid of the itch under his skin and he's pacing irritably, mapping out the inside of the cell with his hand on the wall. Logic tells him the little room is empty save for himself but he hates the dark, hates what _could_ be lingering just out of reach. It's the fear of what he can't see sneaking up on him that frightens him the most. Dulled senses make for a dead hacker, a lesson he's learned the hard way.

If he ever gets out of this he'll wring Morgana’s neck.

~

Merlin paces for a while, kicking one of the walls in desperate attempt to feel something, but the fuzzy pain does little to alleviate his restlessness as the hours pass. He comes to the conclusion he could cut his own arm off and barely feel it. He only knows he's scratched his arms raw because he can smell the blood and feel it under his nails.

Finally he slides to the floor and closes his eyes, hoping Arthur got his message and will steer clear of the _Camelot_. It was a small battle but a win none-the-less. Whatever Mordred is planning it can’t be good.

 


	3. Chapter 3

“Merlin. Hsst, Merlin, wake up.”

Merlin grumbles and shifts in his sleep, but doesn't wake and Morgana pulls off her boot, chucking it at his head.

“Wake up,”she hisses. The shoe clatters against the floor and Merlin startles awake with an incoherent grumble, blinking dumbly in the light. He picks up the boot and cranes his head back.

“Morgana?” he rasps, scrubbing at tired eyes with a hand. He glares as he recognizes her, snapping into wakefulness. “What are you doing here?”

“Shut up and give me back my boot,” she scolds. “Quick, before someone sees.” She reaches out and turns off the gravity, the world under Merlin tilting until he rolls gracelessly to his feet.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you,” he asks as he reachs the front of the tunnel, Morgana's boot still gripped firmly in his fist.

Morgana smiles, taking her shoe from him. “Because I’d kick your ass.” She sounds so much like his Morgana it makes his heart ache. She tugs her boot back on, her smile falling.

“Look, I didn’t-” She worries her lip with her teeth, her eyebrows knitting together and Merlin has to resist the urge to strike her. “I didn’t let them in. I know you think I did, but Merlin I swear I didn’t.” Her voice is pleading, begging him to understand. “I don’t know how they got the codes. One of Mordred’s men contacted me months ago. I told Uther and he sent me in undercover to try and find the mole. The Dragons I gave Mordred were given to him because Uther allowed it. I swear, I’m still on your side,” she whispers, her expression pained.

“You shouldn’t be helping them,” Merlin scolds. “I don’t care if you’re going to stab him in the back in the end or not.”

“Look, I’m playing the game,” she says, sagging back against the wall, irritation in her shoulders. She’s obviously expected him to understand. He doesn’t.

“It makes you a traitor.”

“It makes me alive,” she snaps through her teeth, pursing her lips and forcing herself to stay calm. “Whether or not you like it, I’m your best chance of helping Arthur and the other Knights make it out alive. I can tell you he’s still alive for now, they all are, but I don’t know any more than that.”

Merlin frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yes, but is he safe.”

Morgana’s eyes are sad. “Are any of us?” She gives him a small smile and an awkward silence settles around them.

“So are you going to let me out or not?” Merlin finally asks, still standing within the cell.

Morgana shakes her head. Merlin hadn’t really expected her too, but he's still disappointed. “Soon,” she promises. “Right now it would look too suspicious,” she says, a gentle apology in her tone. “And you're safer in there.” For a brief moment Merlin can see the fear flicker behind her eyes and he notices the dark circles beneath her eyes for the first time. “Better get back to the bottom before I turn the dial or you’ll break your pretty head,” she whispers. For a moment she thinks he might attack and Merlin almost does, but finally he nods and ventures to the back of the tunnel.

“And Merlin?” Morgana calls. “Try not to get yourself killed. Arthur would never forgive me.”

Merlin makes no promises but he does lie down as the world tilts. Morgana swears at the same time Merlin hears footsteps. Morgana fumbles with the controls and the blackness washes over Merlin, leaving him feeling numb and itchy as the footsteps approach. He quickly shuts his eyes, feigning sleep.

“What’s he doing?” a voice asks.

“Sleeping.” Merlin has to give Morgana credit. She doesn’t sound the least bit flustered; just bored, a feat he isn't sure he would have been able to pull off in her place.

“And you felt that necessitated your attention did you?”

Merlin can practically hear her glaring. “Like I said,” she bites out, “he’s tricky. If he manages to get any tech in here he’ll disable that security like it’s nothing more than the flimsy lock on your porno collection and he'll be gone. You’d do well to post a guard.” She pauses briefly, staring thoughtfully down at Merlin. “Or do a cavity search,” she suggests lightly, more for Merlin’s benefit he suspects, than anything.

Merlin could slap her. Cavity search his foot. No one was getting anywhere near him with a set of rubber gloves. The guard seems well chastised and when he speaks it's with a modicum of respect.

“Well wake him up, Mordred wants to see him. They’ve found the Pendragon.”

Much to Merlin’s horror, Morgana’s boot goes flying again, this time clipping him right across the head. He let loose a string of curses, not all of them in the same language, and clutches at his head, glaring at the smiling faces above him as the dampeners are disabled.

“Up,” Morgana demands, grinning wickedly as she turns the dial without warning, dumping Merlin on his ass in a tangle of disgruntled limbs.

Righting himself, Merlin stalks to the front of the cell, chucking Morgana’s boot at her which earns him a sharp glare from the trooper at her side.

“Is that any way to treat a prisoner,” Merlin grouches. No one answers him as they turn down the corridor, but Morgana shoves him in the back as they leave the holding area. Merlin swears he hears her snigger.

Merlin’s impatient attitude stays with him for all of thirty seconds, as long as it takes them to exit the holding cells. As the doors open he's blinded with light, blinking rapidly to try and clear his watering eyes. When he can see again he's able to make out a bloodied Arthur standing between two guards, his arms behind his back. Merlin makes to help him, but the trooper who’d come to fetch Morgana catches his arm and hauls him back. Merlin tears his arm free with a glare, but gets the message and stands where he was, glaring at Arthur.

“Didn’t you get my message?” he grinds out from between his teeth.

“Of course I got it.” Arthur snaps. “Where do you think I was heading when they caught me; to rescue you?”

“Now boys, save the flirting for later.” Mordred smiles and Merlin sneers. “I have a job for you Merlin.”

“No.”

“But you haven’t even heard what it is yet,” Mordred pouts.

“I don’t care. Whatever it is, the answer is no. I told you that.”

Mordred sighs dramatically, clucking his tongue in disappointment as he turns to the guards. “Very well. Shoot him.”

The troopers knock Arthur’s knees out from under him and he hits the ground hard, one of the men cocking a gun and putting it to his head as Merlin surges forward with a shout.

“What are you doing?” he cries, someone catching him by the arms again and dragging him back, but not before he’s made it halfway across the room. The guard twists his arm back and up, driving him to his knees and Merlin grinds his teeth, glaring up at Mordred.

“If you’ve got a problem, take it out on me,” he grinds out. “Arthur’s got nothing to do with this.”

Mordred seems pleased with the reaction and Merlin wishes he’d done nothing. Now Mordred knows he has a powerful bargaining chip to laud over Merlin’s head and he's left cursing his own stupidity.

“Good. Now maybe you’ll be willing to listen,” Mordred says lightly, beginning to pace. “There’s a certain code I need broken. I hear you’re good at that.”

“He’s the best,” Morgana offers up from somewhere behind Merlin. He could have slapped her.

“What code?” Merlin asks, drawing out the words from between his teeth.

“This one.” Merlin turns toward the second voice and his heart turns over in his chest as he sees who's standing behind them.

“Will,” he breathes. For a second Merlin can't process what he's seeing. His heart turns over in his chest, leaving him cold and light headed. “You're supposed to be dead,” he whispers, unable to think of anything else to say.

“Good old Merlin,” Will drawls. “You always did have a way of stating the obvious.” He pushes off the wall and holds up a small device no bigger than his little finger and Merlin's heart drops.

“That’s a blood code,” he says softly.

“That’s right,” Will laughs. “You're so good at this,” he mocks, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“You can’t crack blood codes.” Merlin’s voice rises hotly as the world stops spinning. “That’s why they’re called blood codes. You need the DNA of whoever authorized it. The whole damn strand. Everything a person is, what sicknesses they've had, their family lineage, their entire history is used to make those things. You don't just _crack_ a blood code.”

“So all we need is his blood,” Will says dismissively.

“Yes, but you see, he’s dead.” Mordred drawls as Will passes him the small piece of tech. He flips the device rapidly between his fingers, pacing again. “And unfortunately we need an entire strand of DNA to make them open as Merlin pointed out so helpfully. You see my dilemma,” he says with a pause.

“Look, I can’t. I’d really like to help you, but I can’t.” Merlin's only being a little sarcastic when he says it and he struggles to his feet. He's willing to do anything to save Arthur, but this is impossible. “There are a hundred safeties to prevent tampering and occasions just like this one. It can’t be done.”

“You know, that's funny, because Will hear tells me _you_ can.”

Mordred takes a gun from one of the guards and presses it against Arthur’s temple, adding pressure until his head is twisted painfully to the side and he's wincing.

“Don’t do it Merlin, there could be anything in those files,” Arthur growls, his eyes meeting Merlin’s. The second guard strikes Arthur across the face to shut him up and for a brief moment Merlin’s heart stops.

“I’ll tell you what,” Mordred says. “I’ll give you ten seconds to tell me what I want to hear, and then I’m going to kill him.” His voice is light, almost playful, as if this is nothing more than a game and Arthur merely a pawn.

Merlin scrambles for an idea, something, anything he can latch onto that might have a glimmer of working as Mordred counts down.

“…7…6…”

“I-I’ll need equipment,” he stutters, “information as to who made the code-”

“3…”

“You’ve got me working blind here,” he cries, desperate. “You’re going to have to give me something to work with. I don't even know who's blood it is!”

Mordred doesn’t lower the gun but he does stop counting and Merlin presses the advantage.

“I need a sample of the source DNA, or a 3D map to work from. If I have that maybe, _maybe_ , I can rebuild it from a relative on board.”

“The source is dead. I've already said as much.” Mordred's face shadows with irritation and Merlin goes ashen.

“But there must be something on file then-”

“There isn't, but I like this plan,” Mordred says easily, the clouds in his expression clearing. “I think it has merit.” Finally Mordred lowers the gun.

“But without something to work from it's impossible-”

“You will crack it,” Mordred interrupts, waving the gun at him, his voice low.

“I can’t promise-”

“You will.”

Merlin swallows thickly and finally nod. “I will.”

“Good. Now,” He turns back to Arthur, pressing the barrel of the gun into Arthur's palm and squeezing the trigger.

Merlin and Arthur scream as the bullet tears through his flesh, spattering blood. Merlin tears free of the guard still holding him, dropping to his knees and skidding the last few paces towards Arthur who falls forward as the guards released him.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt him,” Merlin accuses, Arthur’s forehead slipping forward to rest against Merlin’s shoulder, his breath coming hot and fast against Merlin’s chest.

“I said no such thing,” Mordred says flippantly. “But I’ll continue to take bits and pieces as necessary to encourage you to finish.”

“You won’t lay a hand on him again if you want me to finish.” Merlin’s voice is cold and level, his eyes dark as he looks at Mordred, pulling Arthur slowly to his feet. “If you touch him again, I’ll kill you.”

Mordred seems nonplussed and Merlin turns, carefully helping Arthur from the room, avoiding looking at Will.

“Where do you think you’re going Merlin?” Mordred calls after them in a sing song.

“To fix my fucking insurance policy,” he shouts, rounding on Mordred. “I swear you brutes have beaten him half to death and I promise you if he dies you’ll never get into that file.” He grinds his teeth, forcing himself to turn around and half carries Arthur from the room, not bothering to look back.

It doesn't take him long to pick the restraints binding Arthur’s hands behind his back, the cuffs falling loose and Arthur clutches his throbbing hand to his chest. The shot had taken two of his fingers and Merlin’s stomach twists at the sight.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, guiding Arthur over to the sink to rinse the wound.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk like that.” Arthur smiles but it's pained.

“Like what?” Merlin keeps his eyes on his task, suddenly feeling embarrassed about his outburst.

“Threatening. It was kind of hot,” he says and Merlin can hear the grin as Arthur struggles to find some familiar ground. “But anyone who knew you would never take that kind of thing seriously,” he says, his eyes on Merlin’s face, trying to gauge his reaction, half probing, half teasing trying to search out the truth but unsure if he wants to know.

Merlin's quiet, watching Arthur’s blood swirl in the sink as he rinses the wound, still holding Arthur's hand. “I meant it,” he ventures slowly. “If he-” He bites off the words, glaring at the water.“If he touches you again, I’ll kill him.” Merlin glances up and Arthur looks bashful.

“Didn’t know you cared,” he finally mutters, his eyes low.

Merlin rolls his lips, catching them between his teeth and shuts off the water. He presses a towel over the wound to stop the bleeding, Arthur grinding his teeth and forcing himself to hold still.

“Me neither,” Merlin confesses, walking him back to the table.

Arthur groans, favoring one side and Merlin has to help him up, Arthur’s movements slow and stilted. “Why do you care?” he pants as Merlin helps him settle. Merlin’s lips thin and Arthur senses he’s struck a nerve, but before he can take the question back Merlin speaks.

“Did anyone ever tell you how I was recruited into _Camelot_?” he asks and Arthur shakes his head, not following Merlin's line of thought.

Merlin nods, not surprised, and falls quiet, that wrinkle forming on his forehead that tells Arthur he's thinking hard about something. The same wrinkle he wanted to reach out and stroke away every time he saw it.

“You remind me of my best friend,” he says slowly. “Brash, arrogant, reckless…” Merlin’s hands fall still and his expression silences any comment Arthur might have made.

“When we were kids we got into some trouble. I’ve always had a knack for tech and hacking,” he explains. “Got me into trouble more than once.” He shrugs one shoulder, eyes still on Arthur's hand. “Apparently word got around and some guys recruited us to break into a high level security building. We had no idea what was inside, just that it was the new labyrinth system, you know the one that if you trip up you get sent back to the beginning and the whole thing locks down?” Merlin asks, looking up at Arthur who nods. He remembered when the system had come out and then been quickly recalled, but he had no idea Merlin had been the one to crack it.

“Well I’d been dying to try it out.” Merlin catches his lip between his teeth, worrying it. “I can't resist a good challenge.” He smiles sheepishly. “Even when I know better.”

“What was in the building?” Arthur asks.

“Blueprints for some experimental tech the government was working on.” Merlin waves his hand dismissively. “I found out later it was plans for the first Dragon prototypes, but at the time I had no idea what was going on.

“By the time we realized we were in over our heads it was too late, but I still thought I could get us out. I’d gotten them into the building, but they needed me to break the labyrinth lock on the lab and I tried to use that as leverage against them but I had no idea what I was doing.” He laughs and it's bitter.“God it all seems so stupid now,” he whispers. He shakes his head and goes on. “Anyway, they threatened to shoot Will if I stopped.” He trails off, staring at the far wall.

“What did you do?” Arthur prompts.

“I broke the damn lock.” Merlin laughs, but it dies in his chest and his expression sobers. “They shot him anyway.”

Merlin ducks his head, resting his weight against the table beside Arthur. “He died in my arms.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a shaky breath to steady himself. “At least I thought he did.” He crosses his arms over his chest, chaffing at them as if to warm himself. “The guys got away and I took the fall for everything. Went to prison for almost two years before Gaius recruited me into _Camelot_ with the Navigators program.”

“How old were you,” Arthur asks carefully, “when you lost Will?”

“Thirteen.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah,” Merlin nods, “except that guy back there with Mordred?” He struggles to put the thoughts into words, as if somehow it isn't real if he doesn't say it out loud but Arthur seems to understand.

“That was him wasn't it.”

Merlin nods. “I thought-” His breath shakes and he rubs at his eyes. “Gods he's supposed to be dead. What's he doing here?” he mumbles into his hands and Arthur's fingers ghost against his shoulder, trying to offer comfort but it's awkward, unfamiliar, though not unwelcome.

Merlin looks up, finally managing to pull himself together as Arthur rubs the back of his neck. Merlin smiles, trying to lighten the mood, but it's watery. “So that’s my sob story.” He forces as much false cheer into his voice as he can. “I guess all this,” He gestures around the room, “is indirectly my fault.” He hangs his head. “I don't know, maybe all of this could have been prevented if they'd left me in prison.”

“Shut up Merlin,” Arthur scolds and the rebuff is so familiar it surprises a laugh from Merlin. “You're the best damn Navigator on the entire ship and one of the best we've ever had. Period. None of this is your fault.”

Merlin stares at him, searching his face for answers, or maybe a lifeline, something to cling to. Arthur doesn't know if he finds it, but finally Merlin nods and looks away.

“Did they ever catch the guys?” Arthur asks into the silence. The question fades out at the end and Merlin shakes his head.

“No, and I was really hoping not to drag it all back up into the light again by looking for them. But that seems a little pointless now.” He glances towards the doors and Arthur nods.

He can't say he would have taken the same course of action, but he understands Merlin’s reasoning. Taking too deep a breath he winces and Merlin frowns.

“And now that I’ve neglected you to bleed to death in the medical bay,” he chides, “let’s take a look.” Merlin lifts the hem of Arthur’s shirt and swears at the rapidly forming bruises on his torso.

“What the hell happened down there?” he snaps, back to business. “The team was fine before the cameras blacked out,” he asks, picking up a scalpel and using it to tear Arthur’s shirt in half, shredding the sleeves until he can pull the fabric away without hurting him.

“We got screwed, that’s what happened.” Arthur stretches his body experimentally with a wince. “Troopers, out of nowhere. Never saw ‘em coming,” Arthur gasps as Merlin probes the bruises with his fingers. “Most of green team's dead. We managed to steal a single seater and patch it up. That's how I got back on board. The rest of the guys are stuck down there though.”

Arthur swears as Merlin jabs him a little harder, concerned about internal bleeding. With the beating Arthur looks to have taken something could be seriously wrong and Merlin would never know it.

“Yeah, I think it had something to do with the interference we encountered just before the mission began,” Merlin says, not wanting to divulge the entire story to Arthur just yet. “Someone was screwing around with the scanners, sending us false readings but I don't know what part of that was Freya manipulating her team's signatures or Mordred hacking into the _Camelot_.

“Either way it was an inside job.”

“You think there’s a mole on board?” Arthur asks.

Merlin nods, applying a numbing agent to the bruises to increase Arthur’s mobility but when he reaches Arthur’s ribs he winces and Merlin knows they're broken.

“Damn it,” he mutters, snatching up the one device he recognizes as cellular regeneration technology, running it slowly over the wound, Arthur’s breath coming shallow and rapid as the bone begins to knit itself together. It would take multiple treatments to heal completely, but it might ease the pain for a little while at least.

“Dragons- came out of nowhere,” Arthur breathes through his teeth. “One minute the skies were clear, the next…”

“That was Morgana’s doing,” Merlin fills in.

“Morgana?”

“It’s along story. And I don't know what parts are true and what's all part of some elaborate manipulation.”

Arthur stares at Merlin’s face with a frown. “Uh-huh.” He senses there's more Merlin isn't telling him, but doesn't press the issue. “Anyway,” he goes on, “we were scattered, looking for cover as the fire licked across the dry brush. I made it to the trees, but…” He trails off and Merlin glances up.

“The others?”

Arthur lifts his shoulder in a half shrug and Merlin can see the weight of responsibility in his eyes.

“I don’t know. I found Gwaine, Lance, Percy, and Elyan, but the others are still missing. When silence finally fell I made it back out to the landing zone. That’s when I found your message. Think it was a set-up. Troopers converged on me minutes later. Didn’t make it more than thirty feet before they ran me down.

“Passed out a couple of times after that,” he says with a dry grin. “One of those guys has feet like a giant,” he jokes but Merlin isn't amused.

“I noticed.” He runs a hand back through his dark hair, glaring at Arthur’s battered torso and sighs. “Well, if they had orders to take you alive, they did a piss-poor job of it.”

“Alive doesn’t always mean in one piece.”

Merlin’s eyes fall to the bloodied towel still covering Arthur’s hand. “Yeah, I noticed that too.” Swiping some gel from one of the cabinets he runs it carefully over the wound, trying to be as gentle as possible, tossing the sodden towel into the sink.

“That should help stop the bleeding and prevent the spread of infection until you can be properly fitted for cybernetics. If you want to replace the missing digits that is.”

“I don't know, I think it gives me character.”

Merlin scoffs, stepping back to look at Arthur and shakes his head in disappointment. “If bruises and scars give you character you're the most well developed motherfucker I've ever seen.” His smile withers. “You’re a mess and I can’t run half the stuff in here to figure out what’s wrong with you, but it’ll have to do. If you feel like dying in the near future don’t come to me, I’ll probably give you radiation poisoning,” he warns.

“Remind me not to let you cook on the dates then,” Arthur teases and Merlin flushes, feeling slightly off balance but Arthur forges ahead. “I thought you were supposed to be some kind of tech genius, and now you tell me you can’t even run blue level?” Arthur jabs, easing down off the table and Merlin puts his hands on his hips, indignant.

“Hey, I work with Level 2 yellow tech all the way to black, this blue medi-crap is all just nonsense to me.” He picks up some oblong device with no discernible buttons and frowns at it, dropping it to back onto the tray with a clatter. “Seriously, that egg shaped thing looks like it belongs in the fridge next to the butter, not in a medical bay. The whole slew of it might as well be in another language for all I know. In fact I’d probably have better luck with it if it were,” he mutters.

Arthur sniggers at him and Merlin glares. “All right fly-boy, can _you_ run it?” he demands, hands still on his narrow hips.

Arthur has to smother another laugh and admit he doesn't, Merlin smiling triumphantly, but it falls as a trooper walks in.

“Looks like duty calls,” he mutters, stepping forward and straightening his shoulders, placing himself between the guard and Arthur.

“Time’s up,” the trooper rasps from behind his helmet, an assault rifle cradled in his arms and Merlin’s expression darkens.

“Too bad.” Merlin’s lips twist around the words, his voice venomous. “If Mordred wants his files I want a doctor.”

“You don’t get to give the orders cyber-worm, you get to take them.”

“Cyber-worm?” Merlin echoes. “Oh that’s clever, come up with that all on your own did you?”

“Merlin,”Arthur warns, but Merlin ignores him.

“I bet you take all of Mordred’s orders don’t you?” Merlin lowers his voice and steps closer. “I bet if he told you to get on your knees you would,” he whispers.

Merlin's about to say more, but he never gets the chance. One minute he's standing chest to chest with the trooper, the next he's flat on his ass, cradling his throbbing jaw, blood sliding over his lips.

He grins up at the barrel of the rifle leveled at his head, his teeth bloody. “Is that all you’ve got?” he asks. “I’ve been fucked by little girls who hit harder than that.”

Morgana shoves the trooper’s gun away before he can fire and clucks her tongue in a scolding manner. “Now, now, Mordred wants this one fully functional,” she says glancing between them. “Care to tell me what’s going on?”

The trooper snarls through his helmet. “The little prick thinks he can give orders.”

“Little?” Merlin interrupts, his voice high. “Try me on for size and we’ll find out who’s little.” He purses his lips, miming a kiss at the guard and Morgana chokes on a laugh.

“What is it you want Merlin?” she asks, mostly managing to keep the smile out of her voice.

“A doctor.” Merlin glares at her from the floor. “I’m not specialized in this stuff and Arthur could be bleeding internally. He could by dead by night-cycle and then Mordred won’t have anything to hold over my head anymore which means no files.”

Morgana nods slowly, processing his words.

“You’re not actually thinking about giving him what he wants?” the guard snaps.

“All I want is you baby,” Merlin jabs as Morgana whirls on the man, eyes flashing, reminding Merlin how she’d gotten the nickname “Snake Eyes” among the Dragon pilots.

“You do realize Pendragon is the best leverage we have don’t you? We need him and most likely his blood if we want those files; or would you rather kill him and tell Mordred why his new favorite pet is dead?”

Merlin can’t see it, but he’s willing to bet the guard has gone pale.

“I suggest you find a doctor somewhere aboard this lousy ship if you and your clubfooted cretins haven’t killed them all and bring them to the medical bay.” Her glare follows the trooper all the way out the doors.

When he's gone Merlin stands and Morgana turns to him, striking him hard across the face, nearly knocking him off his feet again.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“For making demands,” she growls, then pitches her voice low so only he can hear. “And your language. How many times have I told you to stop that?” Merlin can’t help the smile that pulls at his split lip, ducking his head to hide it. “Now get to work.” She shoves Merlin through the door, leaving Arthur behind in the bay, his eyes trailing after them in confusion.


	4. Chapter 4

“How’s it going?” Merlin's startled out of his staring contest with the display when Arthur comes up behind him, cradling an arm over his abdomen.

“Hey.” Merlin turns in his chair to face Arthur, dragging a second chair over with his foot. “You look like you’re feeling better. You still look like hell,” he amended, “but not the seventh circle anymore.”

“How sweet of you,” Arthur drawls.

“Sit down before you fall down,” Merlin says, stretching his arms over his head and arching his back, his spine popping. “And poorly,” he groans, sagging back in his chair and glaring at the screen. “I have half a mind to punch it and see if that helps.”

“Maybe you should try asking nicely instead,” Arthur teases.

Merlin huffs. “Did that. I’ve been reduced to threats.”

Arthur blinks at him. “I was kidding.”

“Oh.”

Shaking his head with a smile Arthur stares at the display, following the trail of wires down to where they connect to the chip. “But you’ve done it before right, cracked a blood code?”

Merlin winces, glancing at him from the corner of his eye. “Heard about that did you?”

“Merlin, everyone heard about that,” Arthur says flatly. “I just didn’t think it was true.” Merlin glances away, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Yeah, well, that was different. The source was still alive. All I had to do was get a saple of his blood, extract his DNA, and get it to the chip. Hard part was collecting enough to get a viable read.”

“Oh is that all?” Arthur laughs. “How did you manage that by the way?”

Merlin types idly at a few keys, baring his teeth when the computer beeps at him, denying him access to the files. Again. “Paid one of the new recruits to bloody the source's nose,” he grins. “It wasn’t that hard. No one liked him anyway. From there it was just pulling it from the fabric, extracting the DNA, getting it to the chip before he knew what was happening.” The smile gives way to a frown and Merlin runs a hand through his hair, his fingers snagging on dried blood.

“This is different though. I don't have the source's blood. I have to restructure an entire DNA strand from scratch. Do you have any idea how hard that is?” A small crease forms between Merlin's brows as he turns to Arthur, waiting for an answer.

“Ugh, hard?” he guesses.

Merlin throws up his hands. “It's impossible!”

Arthur sits silently as Merlin drops his head into his hands, kneading at his tired eyes. He heaves a sigh, sagging in his chair and looking smaller than Arthur can ever remember seeing him.

“So what are you going to do?” Arthur asks softly.

Merlin winces, trying to physically force away a headache. He drops his hands and stares back up at the computer screen. “I guess I'm going to do the impossible.”

“Wait, how do we not have the DNA on file?” Arthur asks, beginning to put the pieces together in his mind. “Who's the source? If it's a member of the crew everyone should have a sample in the medical database on board.”

Merlin is shaking his head before Arthur has a chance to finish, waving him back into his seat from where he's stood to head to the medbay. “Trust me, I already tried, but part of the Camelot's natural defense against an outside attack is to dump the memory banks. Everything is gone. And then I thought I'd go get a sample from the body, but the morons had already jettisoned it!” He deliberately raises his voice so the guard standing at the door can hear him.” He shakes his head at their sheer stupidity.

“Well then who's the source?”

Merlin stills, glancing up at Arthur, watching him closely. “You...you don't know.”

Arthur frowns, “Know what?”

Merlin's mouth works silently but he can't think of a way to tell him.

“Merlin.”Arthur's tone has a clear warning. It's the voice he uses on missions when he means no nonsense.

“It's your father,” Merlin finally whispers. “Arthur, your father is dead.”

Merlin can see it the moment his words make sense, see the horror and denial in Arhtur's eyes. Arthur shakes his head, rising from his chair and backing away. “No, my father’s not dead.” His face is pale and Merlin wants to reach for him, to beg for forgiveness for being the one to tell him but he's tired. He's so damn tired. “He can’t be.”

“Oh believe me, no one’s more upset about this than I am,” Mordred calls from the doorway and Arthur rounds on him. “This would all be a lot easier if he were still around, but sadly he’s very much dead. Why did you think I needed Merlin in the first place? If I didn't you'd all be dead with the rest of them.”

“You son of a bitch,” Arthur snarls, storming towards Mordred with his fist raised.

“Ah, ah, she was your mother too.”

Arthur comes to a halt, staring at him, his eyes wide, fist still in the air. It takes him a minute to process what Mordred's said but it doesn't make any sense. “What?” His heart hammers in his chest, leaving him feeling flushed and his skin clammy. His eyebrows knit together and he stares at Mordred in confusion wanting to ask what the hell he's talking about but all that comes out is another stilted “what?”

Mordred pushes off the door and wanders into the room, rolling an apple idly between his hands. “Our mother, well, donor is probably the more accurate term.” He bites into the apple, sucking on his teeth.

“What, didn’t Uther tell you? You’re a test tube baby. A science experiment, just like me,” he says brightly patting Arthur's cheek as he walks by, folding himself into Arthur's vacated seat. “We were part of a project known as Gen-X, genetically enhanced soldiers made to fight the war, to _purge_ the world of the druid rebellion and their sickness,” he spits and Merlin bristles. “Too bad for him.” He lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “I became the thing he feared. A druid. A _rebel,_ ” he says. “Oo, doesn't it just make you shiver.” He grins at Arthur, all teeth but then his expression darkens.

“I am Uther's worst nightmare come to life.” He rises slowly, drifting seemingly without moving towards Arthur, advancing on him like a cat. “The thing he created to be his greatest asset turned into a weapon to be used against him. We live longer, fight harder, never get sick, and we don’t die of old age. We are superior in every way.”

He waves a hand dismissively. “Of course that bothered some people; said we needed to be more human, more relateable. They were scared of us and apparently that was a bad thing.” His voice turns mocking and he glares at Arthur. “They needed us to be weak, so they could feel safe. So the growth rate was changed to a more average human life span and all the subjects allowed to age and die.” Mordred curls his lips in disgust. “Though we are notoriously difficult to kill. I,” He puts a hand to his chest, “am one of the first generations before the subjects were modified, flawed, like you.” He jabs Arthur in the chest with a finger almost accusingly.

Arthur looks dumbstruck. He shakes his head numbly. “Gen-X was shut down over twenty years ago,” he finally says, his voice catching.

“Ah, but not before you were ‘born’. You were one of the last. Gen-X’s research was shutdown after it was discovered their subjects were defective.” Mordred grins.“Something faulty in the wiring upstairs.” His voice lilts as he taps one of his own temples. “Said it made us crazy. I don’t think I’m crazy. Do you?” he asks, approaching Arthur. “Little brother?”

Arthur takes a swing at him, but Mordred just laughs, dancing out of range.

“What do you want?” Merlin calls out, interrupting the impending fist fight. “What’s in these files that’s so damn important?”

“Everything,” Mordred hisses, a fevered light in his eyes. “Files, genetic data, blueprints, everything Gen-X ever was and will be again. I’m going to begin their research over.” He smiles but it's too wide, the fevered look in his eyes making it look feral.

“Aw, don’t look so sad,” Mordred purrs at Merlin’s frown. “I’m improving the human race.” He puts a hand on Merlin’s shoulder sympathetically. “You’ll thank me for it one day.

“Well, maybe not you personally. You won’t be around to see it. I’m afraid we’ll have to exterminate all lesser life forms before we can truly advance, but don’t worry, you’re going to have a direct hand in birthing this new dynasty,” he says, patting Merlin’s shoulder.

Merlin jerks away. “I will not be part of this madness.”

Mordred frowns. “I think you’re forgetting- you don’t have a choice.” He turns and heads for the door. “And remember; ten more minutes to make some progress or Arthur looses the rest of his fingers,” he sing songs, waving over his shoulder and Merlin flops down in his chair, his head in his hands. He hears the door hiss shut behind Mordred, cutting off the sound of his boot strikes on the heavy metal.

Merlin's shaking, fear leaving him cold. “I didn’t know,” he whispers, horrified that he's playing such a large role in Mordred's manipulation, that he's the key to opening the file Mordred needs to build an entire army. “I swear, I didn’t know.” He isn't sure what he's apologizing for; not noticing the static in their radio transmission sooner, not detecting Mordred's attack on the _Camelot_ until it was too late, or for this moment and all that's led up to it. Maybe it doesn't matter, maybe all of it is his fault that they're here right now, but here they are. And nothing can change that. All they can do now is move forward.

He peeks up at Arthur through his fingers as Arthur sits down next to him, his face distant.

“What do you need?”


	5. Chapter 5

 “You need sleep.” Arthur knocks the arm Merlin is using to prop his chin up out from under him and Merlin topples sideways, nearly hitting his head on the desk.

“’m fine,” he mumbles around a yawn and Arthur glares.

“You can’t keep this up. We've gone through almost a full cycle and you can barely think straight.”

“I can barely _see_ straight,” Merlin mutters, scrubbing his hands over his face. “But even with your blood I've only got a partial match to Uther's DNA and it's nowhere near enough to trick the code.”

“Maybe this will help.” Morgana crosses the room towards them and Merlin has to admit he's glad to see her. She sets a mug of coffee down beside him.

“Thanks,” he mutters, cupping his hands around the warmth.

“You're welcome, but I wasn't talking about the coffee.” Merlin glances up in time see Morgana insert a needle into her arm.

“What are you doing?” he shrieks, Arthur staring at her in horror as well.

Morgana removes the syringe, smiling triumphantly, the little wound bleeding. “Getting you another sample. If you can separate out the unwanted DNA from my blood, selecting only those pieces that are Uther's and blend them with Arthur's you'll have a closer match right?”

Merlin blinks at her dumbly, turning the information around in his head, nodding slowly. “...yeah. Thanks.” He manages a small smile as Morgana passes him the vial, tending to the needle puncture. “But even if we manage to get that to work it's still likely we won't have enough of a match.”

“So fill the holes.”

“Excuse me?” he asks, dumping the blood sample into a machine to separate out what he needs.

Morgana rolls her eyes. “If we can get it close enough we should be able to fill the holes with code, like a virus that will allow us to break into the files.”

“You mean use what structure of the DNA we have as the hack?” he asks, echoing her words to himself. “Filling in what's missing with bits of code...why didn't I think of that?” Merlin whispers, irritated at himself.

“Because you're exhausted,” Morgana scolds.

Merlin groans, spinning his chair around to face the computer. “Not you too. Mordred expects results.” He doesn't look at Arthur, hyper-aware of his presence beside him, but they all know why Merlin's really doing this; Arthur's life depends on it. He looks at the coffee mug on the desk beside him instead.

“I think we're going to need more coffee.”

 

~

“Time’s up.” Mordred saunters through the doors what feels like minutes later, Merlin jerking to his feet. Guards flank Mordred on both sides as he strides closer and Merlin maneuvers between them and Arthur.

“This is ridiculous, I need more time.” Merlin's voice is pitched high in desperation, adrenaline doing a better job to wake him than all of Morgana's coffee, but Mordred doesn't seem to hear him.

“You've had a full day Merlin.”

“It isn't enough.”

“So you’ve made no progress then.”

“That's not- I didn't say that,” Merlin stutters, beginning to panic. He holds his ground as the troopers advanced, one hand held out, low at his side in a vain attempt to protect Arthur. “This is impossible, you’re asking me to patch together genetic code from two completely different sources to map out a DNA strand that we no longer even have on file. All in less than a day without completely frying the chip and destroyING all the files inside it.

“Even if I had a partial physical sample from Uther it would be _something_ but you've got me working blind and from scratch, he rants, shaking his head. “It can’t be done.”

“I’m growing tired of your excuses.” Mordred glares an Merlin knows he's losing ground.

“You didn't have this much trouble last time Merlin,” Will calls, once again appearing as if from nowhere and Merlin's head whips around, heart tripping over in his chest at the sight of him.

“Look, I’m trying,” Merlin snaps, his voice rising. “Either you get bad results fast and corrupt the chip or you get good results slowly. You can’t have all three and that’s all there is to it. Threatening me isn’t going to make me work any faster.

“If you think you can do better yourself sit down and do it, otherwise, get out of my face, stop interrupting me, and let me get the hell back to work.” Merlin's trembling in fury by the time he's done and for a moment he really thinks Mordred will just shoot him and be done with it. But then he smiles, making a gesture at the guards who release Arthur and Merlin can breathe again.

“Your wish is my command.” He gives a mocking bow, rolling up his sleeve and crossing the room to tie an elastic band around his bicep. “I'm glad to see Morgana's given up a sample of her blood so readily. Maybe you'll have more progress with three samples instead of two.”

Merlin blinks at Mordred, watching as he fills a vial with his own blood. He hadn't thought to ask Mordred for a sample of his own blood let alone expected him to give it to him. “Huh, that's...actually yeah. It might.”

Mordred caps the vial and slips off the elastic, folding a piece of cotton into his elbow. “Anything to help,” he says pleasantly, spinning on his heel and marching from the room, Will close on his heels. Merlin stare after them in shock at the unexpected exchange in Mordred's behavior. He hadn't expected the man to be so accommodating.

Merlin’s knees give out beneath him moments later and he falls back into his chair, his head spinning. He's breathing heavily, the vial sitting warm in his palm as adrenaline leaves him cold.

“You’re either the bravest man I’ve ever met,” Arthur says softly coming to stand beside him, “or the stupidest.” There's a soft chuckle in his voice and Merlin gives a weak smile.

“Probably both.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Is that it?” Morgana looks up at the screen from over Merlin's shoulder, coming to a stop behind him. 

“That's it.”

“What's the percentage?” she asks, reaching around him to tap on a series of keys making the strand spin. 

“Barely sixty-seven percent.” He's groggy from lack of sleep and his eyes feel like sandpaper.

“That's all?”

Merlin blinks up at her, voice deadpan. “Are you fucking kidding me.”

“Okay, okay.” Morgana throws up her hands and takes a step back. “You did an impressive amount of work in a short amount of time. I'm very impressed.”

“Damn right you are,” he grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest in a huff, slouching back in his chair.

“You're grumpy when you haven't slept.” 

Merlin turns on Arthur with a glare and he shuts up. Satisfied, Merlin stares up at Morgana. “Hey, filling the spaces in it was your idea. I just did my part.” He gestures angrily at the screen. “Your turn.”

“All right, all right, hold your horses.” She reaches around him again pulling up a series of small screens. “I'm gonna need your help though. We'll only have a small window to slip inside before the security protocols come down like an iron door.”

“What? That's your idea?” He slaps her hands away from the keys. “Arthur's life is on the line. I'm not losing him.” Merlin wishes he hadn't said anything a moment later and his cheeks flush with color. Apparently sleep turns off his filter. 

“You have a better one?” Morgana shoots back. Merlin has to admit he doesn't, not that he likes it. He grinds his teeth, turning back to the computer. 

“No.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Do it.” 

Morgana's hands return to the keypad, opening and closing windows, laying out code faster than he can follow, peeling back the the layers of security like an onion, dismissing or breaking through what she doesn’t need. She's blasting through the hack like a battering ram and if Merlin could see straight he'd be impressed. 

“All right, get ready to input the strand,” she says, tongue flicking to the corner of her mouth in concentration. Her eyes fly across the screen almost as fast as her fingers. “Okay...now.” 

Warning signs light up the windows as the computer reads the patchwork DNA and Merlin's fingers dance alongside Morgana's as fast as he can manage. 

Merlin’s eyes narrow, his brain working sluggishly to follow what she's doing, sweat breaking out across his forehead. Morgana swears. 

“Come on you piece of...” she hisses.

Merlin sits forward willing himself to think. “Just…” He drags his fingers over the computer, working in tandem with Morgana. “We're almost there we just-” 

They crash through the security, successfully hacking the firewalls, the screens clearing and silence falling through the room save for their labored breathing. 

“Are we-” Merlin begins, staring up at the screen, afraid to breathe. He doesn't hear any alarms, but he can barely hear anything through the pounding in his ears.

“We're in,” Morgana finishes as if she can't quite believe it. Merlin gives an exhausted whoop of success, spinning around in his chair before launching himself at Arthur in a hug, laughing in exhausted delight, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He flops back into his own chair as tears fill his eyes, laughter bubbling up inside his chest driven by exhaustion. His head tips back over the chair and he smiles up at the ceiling.

“We did it,” he grins, the lights from the screen reflecting in his wet eyes.

“Then it appears your usefulness is at an end.”

All three turn to face Mordred, their expressions sobering at the gun in his hand.

Morgana steps back as Mordred approaches, waving the gun at them, urging Arthur and Merlin away from the computer. Mordred clicks on the blinking icon and the computer pulls up file after file in rapid succession. Merlin’s eyes widen at it all, waves of information roll across the screen.

“That’s got to be several terabytes of information,” he whispers in awe.

“Is that a lot?” Arthur asks.

Merlin chokes on a laugh. “Yes Arthur, it’s a lot.” He turns to Mordred. “That’ll take years to go through.”

“Yes. And now thanks to you, I have the time.” Removing the chip Mordred steps back, the screens falling dark. “I wanted to thank you Morgana for all your help.” Before any of them have time to react he's fired the gun, the sound ricocheting through the room, leaving their ears ringing.

Morgana lets out a breath of surprise, her lips parting. She looks down at her abdomen, watching as blood stains her shirt, blinking as if she doesn't understand what's happening. Blood pressure dropping, she sinks to her knees.

“You shot me,” she says dumbly. 

“Yes. Unfortunately I have it on good authority you plan on turning on me and I’m afraid I can’t have that.” He pouts at her like he really does regret having to kill her.

“And what about us?” Merlin asks, tempting fate, trying to draw Mordred's attention from Morgana.

“You?” Mordred turns to face them. “I plan on letting you both go down in a blaze of glory. That is the Pendragon way isn’t it?” He backs toward the door, arms spread wide, a rougeish grin on his face.

As the doors lock behind him Merlin drops down beside Morgana, Arthur next to him, pulling away her shirt, exposing the bloody wound.

“Aw, shit,” Morgana drawls, craning her head to look at it. “This is bad.” Merlin covers the wound with his hand, adding pressure to try and stop the bleeding. 

“There’s an emergency kit on the wall, get it,” Merlin orders and hurries to fetch it. “Damn it Morgana, can you not bleed out all over the floor?” Merlin asks, his tone sharp as his adrenaline spikes.

She grins wryly. “I’ll try.” Arthur drops to Merlin’s side, the kit in his hand and Merlin exchanges his hand for Arthur’s, placing it over the wound, tearing into the kit and pulling out medical gel and gauze for emergencies. He slathers it into into the opening, hoping the microbots can repair whatever damage has been done to Morgana's internal organs before wrapping gauze tightly around her waist. He pulls Morgana into a sitting position, her back resting against the desk once he's done.

“Go,” she says, waving them back, one hand cradling her stomach. “There are explosives rigged throughout the ship. It’ll be coming down in a matter of minutes.”

“We’re not leaving you here,” Merlin argues, up to his wrists in her blood.

“Yes you are.” She turns cold eyes on him. “Take one of the Dragons, they’re closest. You’d never make the shuttles in time and avoid the explosion, they’re too slow. And Mordred's likely cut the power to the lifts.”

“We could put her in one of the escape pods,” Merlin says thinking aloud. “Send her down to the planet.”

“She’d never survive,” Arthur replies softly. “The turbulence will kill her.”

Merlin's mind whirls, shuffling through their options. “You can fly the Dragons right?” he asks, a gleam in his eyes Arthur doesn't like.

“Yes,” he says carefully. “But-”

“Good. Take Morgana and go.” He stands and hurries over to the door, wiping blood on his pants. Merlin rips the paneling from the wall and begins stripping wires with his teeth.

“And what will you be doing?” Arthur demands, marching after him. “I’m not leaving you here.”  
“Oh yes you are. There might still be people aboard this ship. I’m going to issue a general warning, try to get as many of them off as I can. Get out a hail to any nearby vessels to give us a wide berth. If the ship blows spirits only know how wide the blast radius will be. I'd prefer not to take out half the ships stationed here.”

“It’s suicide.”

“Yes.” Merlin says quietly, stubborn, his hands falling still, his back to Arthur. “But this place is worth fighting for.” He wants to add _and so are you_ but he's not _that_ tired.

“I’ll take one of the Knight’s pods down as soon as I can.”

Arthur grabs his arm, turning him around. “That requires two people. Someone has to input the coordinates and send you off.”

“I’ll think of something.” Merlin argues, turning his back on him, but Arthur grabs his shoulder, forcing him back around, ready to give him a piece of his mind, but Merlin speaks first. “Please Arthur,” he says, his voice soft. “I can’t lose both you and Will.”

Something like sympathy crosses Arthur's face. “He's still alive Merlin.”

Merlin shakes his head sadly. “I lost my Will a long time ago.”

Arthur wants to argue, Merlin can see it in his eyes, but he sets his jaw and says nothing, making his way back to Morgana. Merlin loves him for it.

“All right princess,” he says, hauling her up over his shoulders, the shock keeping her from feeling any pain now but he knows she will later. “Up you go.”

She groans in discomfort anyway. “...thought I told you- never to call me that.”

Merlin strikes two wires together, throwing sparks and the doors hiss open.

“Merlin.” Morgana holds out her arm as Arthur carries her past, gesturing for Merlin to take her personal navigator. “The sites where the explosives have been placed have already been input into the device. Might save you some time.”

“Why didn’t you just disable them yourself?” Arthur asks, twisting his head around to look at Morgana.

“They were under guard until just recently, but Mordred might have ordered some of the men to stay behind to make sure no one tampered with them,” she warns. “I didn't have a chance to get to them.”

“He’d do that to his own men?” Arthur asks in surprise. “Leave them here to die?”

“Yes. And they'd go willingly.” Her face is bloodless as Merlin takes the device. 

“Thanks,” he says, kissing her cheek and looking at Arthur. “Go,” he says forcefully, turning and sprinting to the nearest console, not waiting for a response. A minute later he curses as he realizes someone's screwed with the system and he has to re-route power to get around whatever knots they've put in. He pulls up ship wide communications, breezing through the security to activate the red level state of alertness.

“Attention, any survivors on aboard the _Camelot_ , this is Navigator Emrys; explosives have been placed aboard the ship. You have ten minutes to reach the escape pods before I put the Camelot under complete lock down to try and contain the blast. I repeat, evacuate the ship immediately, this is your only warning.” He flips a switch to open up communications to any and all neighboring vessels, praying nothing's blocking the signal.

“Attention, Attention, this is Navigator Emrys on board the _Camelot_ , we have active charges on board, I repeat, the ship has been rigged to blow. Get as far away from us as you can. I don't know how wide the blast radius is. I'll do my best to disable the devices but I can't guarantee I'll be able to disarm them all. This is your only warning. Emrys out.” He sets the message to loop, hoping there's someone there to hear it and he's not just talking to empty space. If no one can hear him at least they'll figure out when the ship starts to explode.

Merlin connects Morgana's nav to his personal computer and pulls up the main screen, muttering to himself.

“All right you son of a bitch. Let’s play.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter you guys! Damn this was an intense ride. Thanks for sticking with it. <3

Sirens split the air as Arthur runs for the nearest bay, dumping Morgana in the backseat of the closest Dragon, firing it up. Minutes feel like hours, every second that passes leaving him expecting to find fire on his heels but finally they're out of the ship and heading straight for the planet’s surface.

“You’ll need this.” Morgana dumps a visor in Arthur’s lap. “If you plan on helping him you’ll need to work fast,” she says, her voice thin and Arthur nods solemnly. Of course she knows he's going back. She’s always been able to read him like an open book.

“Pass me your nav,” she says. “I’ll input the coordinates.”

~

The emergency lights flash red, bathing the corridor in blood as Merlin runs for the first of the explosives, a countdown helping him keep time.

“Thirty seconds to get there, forty-five seconds to disarm, a minute to the next, forty-five to disarm, fifteen seconds to the next, three minutes to lock down,” he chants, mentally mapping out the route he needs to take, but no matter how fast he works he knows he's going to run out of time. He's wasted precious minutes polarizing the shields, using them to bounce the tractor beam around the ship. With any luck it'll draw flying debris back towards the hull and contain the blast, so long as it isn't ship wide. If the entire ship explodes no amount of prepping will help.

He runs faster, tripping to a stop as he finds the first bomb, ripping open the paneling, his mind already stripping it apart piece by piece.

“Blue wire to red, strip the yellow, connect the circuit,” he mutters, his hands trembling, sweat running into his eyes.

_“Merlin?”_

Merlin jumps as Arthur’s voice comes in through his earpiece and he nearly clips the wrong wire. “Damn it Arthur, you’re not supposed to be here!” Merlin scolds, realigning his blade and severing the correct wires, separating the detonator from the device, the red dot on his nav vanishing.

_“Shut up. You know I never listen to you and you need the help if you’re going to get this done.”_

Merlin closes his eyes, praying they make it out of this alive before making for the next location. “I’m sorry,” he says at last.

_“Just tell me what to do.”_

~

Merlin wipes sweat from his eyes as the blast door comes down behind him. He can barely breathe through his aching throat, but he has to admit he's glad Arthur is here. There's one bomb left and he's beginning to think they're going to make it, hope swelling dangerously in his chest.

“One more Pendragon,” Merlin calls as he crosses wires from the closest Navigator's chamber. Arthur's on the other side of the ship, finishing off the last bomb. “I’ll open a way for you. Think you can handle it?”

_“Got it.”_

Merlin can hear him breathing through the intercom and smiles, relief washing over him for the first time as he connects to the ship's on board computer, unlocking secured passages for Arthur before dropping back to the explosive at his feet.

_“Uh-oh.”_ Arthur's voice crackles over the comm.

“Uh-oh?” Merlin echoes, his voice rising. “What’s uh-oh?”

_“This one’s different,”_ he says and Merlin’s heart drops.

“Different how?”

_“Just different, I don’t know._ ” Arthur's voice sounds panicked and Merlin can imagine him gesturing with his hands. _“There’s a vial with some glowing yellow liquid inside, two copper coils bracketing it.”_ Arthur’s voice goes firm and steady, but panic lingers just below the surface. _“What do I do?”_

Merlin’s mind spins as he tries to think through a haze of sleep deprivation and adrenaline, simultaneously attempting to disarm his own explosive. “Damn it I know this,” he mutters to himself. “Do you see a circuit board?”

_“No, but there’s a bunch of wires in a compartment underneath it.”_

Merlin squeezes his eyes shut but can’t make his brain work. He pulls the detonator from the device in front of him. “Look just get out of there, I’m coming down.” He turns and makes for the door, but Arthur’s voice stops him.

_“There’s no time, just tell me what to do.”_

_Sixty seconds,_ his countdown warns from his arm and Merlin snarls at it.

“Can you remove the vial?” he asks, his voice tight.

_“Not without breaking it.”_ Merlin can practically hear him dancing back and forth on his feet, desperate to do something. _“What about the copper coils?”_ Arthur suggests as Merlin ignores his warning and opens the blast doors, running for the lower deck. _“I think I can-”_

“No! Removing the coils will cause it to detonate prematurely,” Merlin warns, skidding to a stop. Gods if he can remember that why can't he remember how to disarm it? “There’s got to be a circuit board in there somewhere, that’s the key.” He sprints for the access tunnels, practically falling down the maintenance ladders in his rush. There's no time to retrace his steps, he's sealed every security door he he find behind him to try and contain the blast. Just in case.

_Thirty seconds._

“Damn it, just rip it out,” he screams, falling over himself in his haste to cross the ship to Arthur down in Engineering.

Silence falls over the line and Merlin’s heart beats so fast it hurts, his eyes staring at the countdown on his nav as it strikes zero, screaming for Arthur as he finally comes within sight of the doors. There's a silence strung so tight Merlin can hear it straining the air, and then a distant boom. He sags against the wall, staring at the doors, seeing spots. For a moment he thinks he might pass out, his eyes blacking over, but then the doors open and Arthur walks out, grinning widely and Merlin can't breathe.

Arthur is jittery and a laugh bubbles up out of him he can't seem to contain, startling them both but it's infectious. Arthur's laugh pulls a hysterical sound from Merlin who throws himself at Arthur, kissing him full on the mouth before wrapping him in a tight hug and dissolving into tears.

For a moment he stands there, clinging to him, savoring the weight of Arthur's arms around him, reveling in how solid and real his is. “How?” he chokes, stepping back and holding Arthur at arm’s length.

“I didn’t know what to do, so I dumped the entire thing in one of the pods and sent it down to the planet.” Arthur's grin is giddy and he keeps shifting from foot to foot, unable to stan still. “It detonated in atmo.”

Merlin catches Arthur’s face in his hands, heart swelling with pride and relief and love. “You crazy, stupid, beautiful man,” he scolds, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I could kiss you.”

Arthur smiles shyly, his cheeks pink. “You already did. Twice actually.” He rubs the back of his neck and looks away.

Merlin’s mouth opens as he realizes what he’s done. “Yeah,” he mumbles, feeling sheepish. “I guess I did.” He drops his hands and steps back, glancing about the dark hall, his nerves stretched so thin it leaves him shaking and looking anywhere but at Arthur.

“So what now?” he asks wringing his hands together to try and keep them still.

“You could always buy me dinner,” Arthur suggests and Merlin can't help it, he grins.

“I was talking about the ship,” he teases, heart skipping, “but I think you’ve earned it.”

Arthur laughs and it's the best sound Merlin's ever heard, relief finally letting the tension in his shoulders saf. Exhaustion hits him like an anvil and his knees begin to buckle. He falls back against the wall, sliding to the floor with a groan as his body begins to crash, shock setting in. Every part of him aches and his hands won't stop shaking.

“What day is it?” he mutters, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Gods, I need a nap.” Arthur collapses beside him, looking just as weary. Merlin's head thunks back against the wall, his eyes feeling dry and gritty, heavy. “But there’s still so much to do,” he laments. “We need to deactivate the alert, send a message out that the ship is safe, gods get Morgana and make sure she’s not dead.” He shoots Arthur a panicked look. “She was stable when you left her right?” Arthur nods, too tired to explain and Merlin sags with relief. “Good. But we still need to find the other Knights, appoint someone new to oversee Camelot and repair any damages, and gods the entire system is going to need to be debugged and untangled-”

“I think we should start with the nap,” Arthur cuts in, stifling a yawn and Merlin smiles in full agreement. Before he can suggest they move to a more comfortable area of the ship Arthur's shifted his head to lie against Merlin's shoulder and he can't think of anywhere more comfortable than that.

Hours later the other Knights find them, still fast asleep outside Engineering, having caught a ride back to the ship from one of the neighboring vessels come by the check on the ship. Turns out they'd been radio silent for almost a full two cycles and the admirals were getting suspicious. No one knew they'd been boarded or what had been going on for the past three days but the news spreads rapidly. There are a lot of questions and no answers, but in spite of that Morgana demands they let the boys sleep and the Knights listen, too scared of her to argue. She tries to tell them what she can as they lead her back to the med bay.

Gwaine makes sure to snap pictures of Merlin and Arthur sleeping together for future blackmail. Lance passes over a credit chit, shaking his head.

“Told you they'd get their heads out of their asses and get together,” Gwaine laughs. Elyan has to pass his own chit over to Morgana who just smirks, pocketing it.

They know it isn't over, not by any means, there's too much to do and Mordred is still out there, but at least it's a start.

 


End file.
